


Here, There Be Humans

by shivadyne



Series: Pre-Reform Vulcan AU [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Reform Vulcan, T'hy'la, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-10-11
Packaged: 2018-04-17 00:14:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4645281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shivadyne/pseuds/shivadyne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock and Kirk now have to deal with many of the new problems that leaving Vulcan will afford them. With xenophobia, their tentatively growing relationship, and an unpleasant mystery to unfold, can they handle it all or will they fall apart under the pressure?</p><p>(Takes place after Here, There Be Vulcans. Indefinite hiatus.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> oh man, it's been a while! i dunno how often i'll be updating, mostly because i've only got like three chapters fully plotted out and i'm still trying to figure out where to go from there.
> 
> it's rated M just in case because i have a feeling this story will be a lot more serious than the last.

Jim was bored out of his mind. He’d been stuck sitting in this waiting room for at least half an hour, waiting for Spock to complete the testing. He knew that on average it took three and a half hours to get the test over with, but he remembered it being a lot faster. His eyes wandered from the dull, grey walls to the tired-looking Andorian receptionist before finally landing on the two other people in the room.

One was a Deltan guy he didn’t know, but definitely would’ve liked to. Since he was feeling a certain Vulcan’s building annoyance swirling around in his brain for that split-second of lust, he supposed thoughts in that direction weren’t appreciated.

The other was a human girl, bright-eyed and even brighter-haired, that looked really familiar. He wracked his brain for the answer, finally satisfying himself with the fact that she had dated Gaila for a few months and interned under McCoy around the same time, much to the crabby man’s consternation. She looked up from the PADD in her hands and smiled when she saw him. 

She got up and seated herself next to him. Christine, though he remembered Gaila calling her Chris on many occasions, seemed to be a lot more stressed with her upcoming placement test being so soon. Her hair was in wild disarray and he could easily spot the dark bags forming under her eyes. She said, “I haven’t seen you around in a while, Kirk! You just come back from a mission?”

He returned the smile easily, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he said, “I just got back, but not exactly from my mission."

His tone was light, but there was a tinge of annoyance as he added more quietly, “I wish I could tell you more, but you know how the higher ups feel about classified information and crap. Can’t say a word.” 

“Yeah, they’re really big on secrecy,” Christine said, sympathetic. She opened her mouth to say something else, but someone called out her name. She grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder, saying, “Sorry, gotta go! Message me later, kay?”

He nodded in agreement, watching as she hurried off and giving a lingering glance to the cute guy. Feeling another inkling of irritation, he rolled his eyes and pulled out his PADD to text Gaila. He’d been meaning to ask her about how it was going with Uhura, but the Orion was a tough nut to crack and she wasn’t budging on it.

He sighed at the sight of her last message, putting away his PADD and glancing around the room appraisingly. Still as boring and drab as it had been a few minutes ago, minus one Deltan. There was some guy, curly-haired and over-eager, but he didn’t pay him any mind other than to wonder at his age. Jim thought, _I hope Spock’s doing okay… I’m shit at helping people study._ He paused. _Well, he’s still a genius, though. He’ll probably make someone cry by getting an unreasonably high score._

A few moments later, Spock exited the room looking distinctly uncomfortable. He stood stiffly, hands clasped together behind his back, and immediately made his way over to Jim. He stared down at him until Jim finally stood. Pulling his bag over his shoulder, he led the way out.

As soon as they had made it into the halls and away from any eavesdroppers, though he was sure they would get gawked at once they left this area, he asked, “So, how’d you do?”

Spock gave him a hint of a smile, resting a hand on Jim’s lower back as they walked past the Deltan that he had seen earlier, before informing him, “As you are aware, Jim, the test has little to do with the knowledge of Federation planets such as your own. According to the officer reviewing my test, I did exceptionally well. I tested out of most of the classes, but I am required to take at least five or more. After that, I am able to be assigned to a ship as a science officer.”

“Really? I’ve got a couple more to take, too. Overlooked a couple credits,” he says with a grimace. Spock looked at him curiously and he said by way of explanation, “I’m taking on a pretty heavy course-load. Kinda swamped lately so I just didn’t notice until I had some free time. What classes are you in, by the way?”

“Interspecies Ethics, Interspecies Protocol, Early Starfleet History, Advanced Engineering, and Tactical Analysis," Spock recited back at him, as if he had already memorized his entire schedule. Jim glanced over at the Vulcan and amended that thought. He had definitely memorized his entire schedule by now.

“Oh, hey! I’ve got, like, two of those classes,” Jim replied with a bright grin, scanning through the classes he remembered applying for. He felt a spark of happiness in the back of his mind and sent back a similar feeling, watching as Spock’s lips twitched upwards into another smile. “Advanced Engineering and Tactical Analysis. Already took Ethics, like, last year. You’ll hate the teacher. He’s a bit of a xenophobe, but not enough that anyone can call him out on it, y’know?”

Spock’s eyes darkened momentarily and Jim felt a flash of white-hot anger before it dissipated into nothing. He went to say something, but Spock simply said, “I am aware, yes. Why would he teach Interspecies Ethics if he is xenophobic? It seems counterproductive.”

Jim left it be for now, unwilling to poke at such a sensitive subject while they were wandering around the Academy hallways. He replied, “Dunno. Cause he likes to make us suffer, maybe.”

Spock simply stared at him, likely due to lack of comprehension. Human humor still seemed to evade him, even though he had a human mother. Jim rolled his eyes and unearthed his PADD once more, checking the time before putting it back. He said, “Bones is probably off shift by now. Wanna meet him for lunch?”

Spock nods in agreement and Jim veers off in another direction. Spock easily keeps up with him, having anticipated his actions, while glancing around their surroundings curiously. His gaze wandered constantly, likely trying to process all the new information of an unknown place.

A couple cadets had stopped to stare at the two of them, eyes glued to Spock’s pointed ears and the hand resting at Jim’s back. The two of them ignored it. Jim did so with ease, used to the stares and whispers behind his back. Spock, too, was handling the situation admirably. He didn’t even seem to register their presence, though Jim could feel a faint hint of some emotion. It wasn’t strong enough for him to get a grasp on, though.

“I am amenable to this, though I am less pleased at your choice in company,” Spock told him, quite coolly for someone who was acting so petty. “Is it acceptable for me to accompany you, Jim?”

“Yeah, Pike’s cool with it. People are definitely gonna stare at you with those ears and eyebrows of yours. They’re, like, a dead giveaway to your Vulcan-ness, but I wouldn’t be worried. If anyone tries anything, Bones will maul them to death with hypos,” Kirk reassured him, grinning widely.

Spock didn’t look very reassured. “Your choice in friends continues to concern me. The doctor’s behavior is much like that of the untamed sehlat. He is a wild and unpredictable being, one prone to… attacking you with sharp objects?”

“I don’t know how you guys got off on the wrong foot, but the bitchiness on both ends is pretty great to watch. You should totally tell him that by the way. He’ll probably leap over the table and strangle you to death with, um, sausage links?”

“Sausage links,” Spock repeated, staring at him with his eyebrows raised. “My mother quite enjoys those, Jim, and I am fairly sure strangling a Vulcan to death with them will be a useless act. I would suggest a Vulcan nerve pinch, but most humans are incapable of using it.”

“You never know, Spock,” Jim responded as they entered the cafeteria. “Bones defies all reason. He’s badass like that. Kinda scary, too. I remember someone dressed up like him for Halloween and he got so pissed…”

He became aware of the total silence that had taken over the cafeteria. Jim looked up and saw that all eyes were fixed on the two of them, but he simply walked over to the replicators with Spock in tow. The Vulcan didn’t seem to notice the eyes on him, just like with the cadets, and looked at the vegetarian options in evident disgust. Jim rolled his eyes and got a tofu burger, waiting for Spock to finally choose before they made their way over to the table that Bones was sitting at.

He slammed his tray down right in front of him before plopping down, grinning when McCoy jumped at the loud sound. McCoy, already looking pissed off, asked, “You brought the damn hobgoblin with you, Jim?" Grumbling to himself, he mumbled, "Can't even have a meal in peace without you coming to invite some more danger into my life... What's next? Allergic reaction? Vulcan-induced rage ala spinach?”

Jim went to reply with something scathing, ignoring the stare down occurring between them. Before he could speak, however, a very familiar voice called out, “Kirk!”

Jim looks up in surprise as a man jogs up to their table, surprise painting its way over his features. “Gary?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh man, this was uploaded a lot later than i had intended?? i have a basic plan for each chapter, but this one exceeded the length i had expected. feel free to tell me if you notice any errors.
> 
> all that aside, thanks for the kudos, comments, and views. i really appreciate it! 
> 
> feel free to tell me if you notice any errors.

“Forgetting about me already, Kirk?” Gary teased with a sly grin, resting his hands on the table. There was something in his expression that was unsettling, but Jim couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He leaned in closer, boxing Kirk in with his arms as he said, “I’ve been gone a month, you know. Didn’t you miss me?”

“Gary, I’ve only been back for a couple weeks,” Jim replied, rolling his eyes. Spock’s mind was roiling, making Jim feel queasy. _What's got him so mad?_ He pushed his tray away subtly, taking another sip of his coffee and smirking rather artificially over the rim of the cup. “It was nice not having to drag you away from every pretty face.”

“You have so little faith in me,” Gary said, eyes flickering over to the Vulcan sitting ram-rod straight at his side. Jim glanced over in Spock’s direction, too, and was worried to see that he looked a little green around the gills. If it wasn’t for his Vulcan half, he’d think Spock was just feeling a little under the weather. He was well aware that this wasn’t the case, though, and could feel the burning heat of emotion when he poked around for his loose connection to Spock’s mind.

Gary’s lip curled in disgust at the sight of him, gaze caught on the elongated ears and olive-tinted skin. With narrowed eyes, he jabbed an accusatory finger in the Vulcan’s direction and asked, “Who’s the elf?” 

Spock glanced over to Jim briefly, face revealing nothing of his thoughts, but quickly turned his full attention to Gary. He said, quite coolly, “I am Spock. And as Jim has neglected to inform me of who _you_ are, I will assume you are simply unworthy of mention.”

Bones looked amused, but Jim was concerned that they were going to start a scene. He could already see Gary’s hands curling into fists, eyes flashing with a cold, deadly sort of malice that chilled him to the bone. Jim found himself unintentionally leaning into Spock’s side. The Vulcan’s sharp, angry gaze was diverted to the human and his eyes softened, but he didn’t take back his words.

Gary smiled nastily, likely ready to fight back. McCoy had tensed up in his seat and Jim saw that he was reaching for a hypo.

Before Gary could speak or the doctor’s hypo-happy fingers got him put in the slammer, Jim cut through the tension with ease. He grinned up at Gary, tone light as he said, “Alright, I can tell you guys aren’t going to be BFFs anytime soon,” and ignoring the indignant looks tossed in his direction from all sides, he added, “Take a seat, man. Getting sick of craning my head to look up at you while we talk. How was your mission, by the way?”

Gary, obviously pleased to get to talk about himself, plopped down in the seat across from his friend. He shot Spock a dark look, easily returned by the Vulcan, but Bones seemed to see what Jim was trying to do and dragged Spock into an argument about Vulcan culture.

Gary’s attention returned to his friend and he said, “Well, it was a pretty simple mission. Went with Irina, the one dating that Russian wizkid. Riva came along, too. He’s a real creepy guy, y’know? Always real silent with this stony expression on his face. I swear that he spent the whole mission judging us “inferior human beings” or whatever.”

Mouth a thin line and eyebrows drawn down in evident irritation, Jim said, “Riva speaks telepathically, Gary. Maybe he’d have talked to you if you were a little nicer to the poor guy.”

“Is he?” Gary asked, eyes widening. He shrugged it off fairly quickly, though, so Jim doubted his reaction was genuine.

With a smile, Gary leaned forward in his seat. His elbows hit against the table with a dull thud and when he spoke again, his voice went down an octave, “You are _such_ an observant guy, Kirk… I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Don’t you have your mission report to write up?” Jim asked, trying hard not to grimace. He had noticed the flirtatious tone, but was unwilling to react to it when he was acting so confrontational. Spock sensed his unease and wrapped an arm around Jim’s waist. Jim sent him a small, appreciative smile which the Vulcan returned. 

Gary didn’t seem to notice any of this, having turned around to glance at the clock. He stood up at last and said, “You’re right, I’ve gotta get started on that before an Admiral gets on my ass. See ya, Jim.”

The moment he had gone, Jim’s shoulders slumped and he looked after him with an annoyed look on his face. He said, “Sorry you had to deal with that, Spock. Gary’s a total xenophobe. Not sure why I’m even friends with him at this point, honestly…”

Bones, having been mostly silent during the altercation, found his voice and spat out, “I don’t see why you’re friends with him either, Jim! He’s a goddamn impulsive mess, one that can’t keep his hands or eyes to himself!”

“Wandering hands and eyes?” Jim asked with a grin. “Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

McCoy glared at him. He seethed in silence, aware that his friend had a point.

“It is no fault of yours,” Spock replied after they had finished speaking, unflinchingly calm despite his obvious mental unrest. He appeared thoughtful as he murmured, “I am concerned, however. His mind was…” he shuddered. “Unpleasant to endure. I believe he may be an esper as he was trying to bypass my shields. It was a…. pork-handed effort.”

“It’s ham-handed, Spock.”

“Ah.”

“That wasn’t the only thing he was trying to bypass,” Bones replied with a very obvious glance in Jim’s direction. “Didn’t even look at us half the time, damn him. The fool spent the whole conversation making eyes at you.”

“Jealous, Bones?” Jim inquired. He leaned in closer, waggling his eyebrows as he said, “You know I’ve only got my eyes on you, crabcakes.”

“Crabcakes,” McCoy repeated, flatly. He sent a wary glance in Spock’s direction, expecting an annoyed frown, but found the Vulcan to be deep in thought. “Call me that again, you wiseass. I’ve got a hypo with your name on it. It may look like it says Ankaran flu, but don’t let that fool ya.”

Unsure whether he should be amused or worried, Jim just settled for getting back to the topic at hand. Rolling his eyes, he told the doctor, “Anyways, Bones, that’s really no big deal. Gary just likes to flirt. He does that with everyone, not just me.”

“I have reasons to support the doctor’s theory, Jim,” Spock spoke up, rejoining the conversation. Jim shot him an unhappy frown, but leaned even further into him. Spock bore the extra weight easily, not even pausing as he explained, “He did not look at the doctor and I 87.32% of our conversation, even though I insulted him for a majority of it.”

“Why were you running statistics in your head over this, you damn hobgoblin?” McCoy asked, looking almost amused in spite of his callous words. After taking the final bite of his salad, he pointed out, “Probably can’t even trust them. You were green with jealousy the whole time those two were talking.”

Spock, nonplussed, replied, “You are in error, doctor. That is merely my blood. It is copper-based and, as you have likely noticed, leaves my skin with a green tint.”

“Well, he has a point,” Jim said, smirking as his friend’s glare shifted to a new target. Meals finished, they all rose to throw away their garbage.

Outside of the cafeteria, they parted ways. McCoy had another shift to take so he was unable to join them, but Jim didn’t have any classes for the day and Spock’s wouldn’t start until tomorrow. Together, they left the academy and made their way towards their fairly new apartment.

It was a very small, cramped sort of place, but Jim was relieved that they had managed to find housing for the two of them on such short notice at all. If it wasn’t for some political maneuvering from Spock’s mother, a true diplomat on both Earth and Vulcan, he was fairly sure they would have been without a place to stay.

Jim, of course, hadn’t wanted to overstay his welcome with Bones. They had lived together before the situation with Spock, obviously, but it wasn’t the same after. Shaking off those thoughts, he unlocked the door and followed Spock inside. Kicking off his shoes, Jim flopped down on the couch with a groan.

Spock, having been examining a book curiously, turned to him. He raised an eyebrow and asked, “Are you well, Jim?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Jim said into the fabric of the couch. Spock stared at his back for another moment before approaching, pushing away Jim’s feet to sit down next to him. Jim rolled over and smiled up at him, sitting up. “Just glad to get out of that place.”

A thought came to mind in the silence that followed his words. Vulcans, apparently, were not ones for small talk. Jim asked, “Are you okay, by the way? You seemed kind of shaken up today.”

“I am… agitated,” Spock said, deliberating on the proper wording for his problem. “I have mental shields, erected to protect my mind and to protect the privacy of others. However, I have found my shields weakening in the presence of so many active, erratic minds.”

“So you’re pissed because everyone won’t keep their grabby mental hands off the goods,” Jim translated, causing Spock to look at him in mild irritation.

“No, Jim. There were very few “grabby mental hands” as you put it. One of those few, however, was your friend, Gary.”

“Damn, was that why you were so pissed?”

“Partly,” Spock said, emotions rushing over Jim so quickly that he was unable to distinguish any of them. “I do not appreciate…” he paused, searching for the word. “My mother called it bigotry. Is that the correct term?”

Jim nodded. He said, “I’m going to go ahead and take a guess that you don’t like bullies either. You said… stuff back on Vulcan, but you were kind of vague on the details so I won’t pry. I grew up in a backwater town in Iowa with a genius IQ so,” he rubbed his arm and said a little more quietly, “I know how cruel kids can be.”

“I am curious about your childhood,” Spock admits, warmed by the thoughtfulness on Jim’s part. He had expected more of it, but was relieved to avoid it. He pulled him closer and Jim came willingly, but Spock’s fingers brushed against bare skin. He was abruptly hit with a wave of guilt, hunger, and… shame?

Jim pulled back, distress clear in his features, and he asked, “Did you see anything?”

“No, Jim,” Spock said, almost gently. His features had softened again and he said, “I only felt your emotions. I cannot view your memories unless we initiate a mind meld. Even if I let down all my shields, you would only be able to send me mental images. Even then, it would take much mental focus for me to be able to see them clearly.”

“Okay, great. Uh, do you need to work on your shields?” Jim asked, not even bothering to hide the fact that he wanted to change the subject and _fast_. Spock went with it, aware that this was an important part of Jim’s past. He was not yet willing to share parts of his past yet either so it wouldn’t make sense to pry.

“Yes,” Spock said, nodding. “I believe I could re-erect them in approximately 23 minutes. Do you intend to sleep soon?”

“Yeah, I’ll wait till you’re done meditating,” Jim said with a shrug of his shoulders. He pulled out his PADD.

Spock moved about the room, setting up the incense and mat before settling into position. He rearranged his form just slightly, and then went deep into his mind to re-erect his shields. They had to be lowered completely for this to be done, but he could barely feel the brush of Jim’s mind through his focus. It took patience, but he managed to strengthen them and erected an additional shield, wary of any prying minds.

Pulling back out of his mind, he blinked slowly and regained an awareness of his surroundings before he stood. Jim had moved onto reading Good Omens at some point during his meditation, but folded over the page that he was on and closed the book. He rose to follow Spock into the bedroom.

Jim immediately wormed his way under the covers, leaving Spock enough room to lay on the right side. Spock laid down next to him, careful to keep space between them, but it was all for naught as Jim turned over, putting half of his body on top of Spock. He rested his head in the crook of Spock’s neck and drifted off to sleep. Spock cautiously wrapped his arms around him, mildly irritated at the feeling of a cold nose against his neck, but still fell asleep moments later.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i'm going to be updating my stories very randomly from now on. i've been pretty busy lately and i don't have as much time to write as i'd like.
> 
> not sure how well this chapter turned out, but it's finally finished. thanks for all the views, comments, and kudos!

The first day back in his courses was as boring and uneventful as ever, the lectures a regurgitation of information he already knew. 

The hours passed by in a blur of monotony until Jim finally reached the last class of the morning. Spock had chosen the seat behind him and Jim listened as he explained a completely different fighting style that he had learned on Vulcan.

He wondered if Spock would be up for a spar later, intrigued at the mention of a whole different set of moves that humans wouldn’t be able to compete with. There was a sort of thrill to fighting against a non-human opponent. As he was considering it, he felt something at the back of his mind, like a spark of interest, but it faded back into the general hum of Spock’s mind quickly enough.

Jim was getting used to that, kind of. It was strange to have emotions that weren’t his own floating around, but they were a fairly good indication of how Spock was dealing with all the change so at least it had its’ benefits.

“It seems we still have about,” the professor shifted and glanced over at the clock, already reaching for his bag, “five minutes left. Your assignment is written up on the board. Feel free to leave once you’ve recorded it down.”

Jim watched the man leave without another word, chewing on the end of his pen just to have something to do. He already had the assignment memorized so there was no point in recording it down anywhere. With a glance at the time, he turned around in his seat to ask, “Want to go get lunch?”

“I am amenable to doing so, yes,” Spock responded, though he seemed somewhat distracted. There was a distant look in his eyes that made Jim curious about the direction of his thoughts. He waited patiently and Spock eventually spoke, asking, “Is… your friend normally so aggressive, Jim? I saw him earlier and his mind was quite unsettled.”

“Well, kind of,” Jim said, stalling for time to actually consider it. _Is constant flirting aggressive? He didn’t really seem to accept the word no and didn't take rejection well, either. It just always meant playing hard to get, I remember, because he’d jokingly say that about me all the time. He could be such an asshole sometimes..._ “In a sense, he was. He’s always been a loose cannon when it comes to personal stuff. I can’t quite explain why, but… there was something really off about him earlier. He was acting odd, yeah, but not enough for me to call him out on it or anything.”

Sulu, seated next to Kirk, turned around to join in on their conversation. Jim knew the man to be a bit of a gossip, but ultimately well-meaning despite his loose tongue. Always eager to spill the information he’d accumulated, Sulu asked, “Are you talking about Gary?”

“Yeah, just talking about how this mission must’ve been hard on him,” Jim agreed with a shrug of his shoulders, wondering if the two had sparred together in their spare time. He’d gone down to the training room a couple times with the guy and Sulu certainly knew his way around a rapier. “Do you know him, Sulu?”

“I know just about anyone that’s willing to spar,” Sulu offered in response. Contemplatively, he said, “I wonder how bad that mission really was to change a guy like that. Even in a fight, he’s different now. He used to pull his punches a lot more and stay on the defensive. Now, he fights like he has nothing holding him back.”

Sulu grimaced and, as an afterthought, added, “I got more bruises from the last spar than I’ve had in weeks.” 

Jim stewed over these words for a moment, a thought slowly building up in his mind. Gary had never fought like that, always used slow, calculated movements in and out of battle. If someone asked Jim how the man fought, he’d have told them Gary was defensive, wary, always on the wire. It had made the man pretty helpful in a fight, his motives always hard to pick apart since he acted one way and fought another way entirely.

A kid with curly hair and a young face approached them, plopping down in the seat next to Spock and pulling Jim out from his thoughts. He seemed very fidgety with barely-contained energy, fingers tapping against the edge of the desk as he said, “Irina vas just telling me about this man you vere all speaking about, vhat was his name… Gary? I think you will be very interested if you’re his friends.”

He received a nod of affirmative from both Sulu and Jim, but Spock made no move to assure him that he was correct. The kid, Jim thought his name might’ve been Chekov or something, looked nervously at Spock as he said, “Vell, I heard that the trip vas a nightmare. Gary kept at Riva the entire time, never leaving him alone. Irina told me he vas shaking when he got back, vouldn’t even look at anyone and stayed in his room until an admiral drew him out. Very terrible, but it makes me vonder what he could have done to scare him so badly…”

“That’s not just terrible, Chekov. It’s also way counterproductive to the mission. You should tell her to mention it in her report if he’s been threatening anyone,” Kirk pointed out, already feeling Spock’s less-than-pleased emotions running over him again. He had a gut feeling that he was beginning to get an idea of what was wrong, but couldn’t make sense of it with the waves of irritation coming his way. Quite reasonably, he added, “Diplomacy in Starfleet is practically everything and they’ve gotten around to imposing it pretty strictly, even among us cadets. I mean, you remember what happened with that one kid, right?”

“Booted out of the program,” Chekov supplied helpfully, noticing Spock’s curious look.

“How… selective of them,” Spock responded, voice nearly devoid of emotion. Jim sent him a concerned glance. “Do they turn a “blind eye” to that behavior in the higher ranks?”

“Sometimes,” Jim said with a shrug of his shoulders. The relaxed movement hid the hint of irritation in his voice. “Other times, they make sure it blows up and turns into a big feud. Nothing works as well as a total political shitstorm to get your enemies kicked out of the ‘Fleet, I guess.” 

Sulu went to speak, but before he could get out all of the words, Spock abruptly stood. He held a bewildered look on his face, a mixture of surprise and disorientation. His mind had given out an abrupt shock of emotion, one that roused Jim to standing as well, and then a noise rent the air.

It was a quick shout, silenced almost as fast as it came, and then Uhura was at the door of the classroom, looking agitated as she asked, “Does anyone have a comm? There’s a dead body literally a foot away, not even a faint pulse, and I don’t have mine on me.”

“Yeah, I got it,” Jim assured her, pulling it out as he walked over to her. He didn’t put a calming hand on her arm, aware that she’d probably kick his ass if he even tried to reassure her like that, but still sent her a look that said he’d handle it. The others all stood as well and they approached the corpse as Jim tried to contact McCoy. He’d already sent a message to the admiral, one of the advantages to having hacked the system to get the man’s private number, and knew Pike would contact security all on his own.

While Jim waits for McCoy to pick up, silently cursing his friend for silencing his communicator at the worst possible times, Spock kneels down to examine the body. He checks for a pulse, just in case Uhura had been mistaken, and was rewarded with nothing for his efforts. There were faint traces of thoughts and feelings, but when he tried to reach Riva’s mind, he was rewarded with nothing but a blank slate.

“It’s Riva,” Chekov tells them, voice faint and trembling. Sulu puts a hand on his shoulder and Chekov leans back into it for a moment before straightening again.

Jim joins Spock to get a look of his own and tries to ignore the way that the eyes stare up at him, wide enough to show he had been surprised and glassy with the sheen of death. He does pay attention to the abrasions, though. They’re all over his neck, bruising darker in some areas than others, and most prominent is the pattern pressed into the flesh. It’s familiar, he’s seen it before, but before he can say a word, Bones answers his phones and he stands once more. 

His friend is staring at him over the line, snarl fixed on his face and mouth raising to start an argument he doesn’t care to hear so he says, “Bones, I’m standing next to a dead body outside of room 1046. No pulse and rigor mortis is starting to set in so he must’ve been dead for a while now.”

McCoy started cursing up a storm over the line, even louder than usual as he shouted out words to someone else in the room. Jim ended the call, shoving the comm back into his pocket. He glances over at his side and notices that Spock is standing as well, hands held behind his back and his eyes fixated at a point over Chekov’s shoulder, face closed off. He looks almost unshaken, as if this situation hasn’t even hit him yet; Jim considers leaning into him, wonders if the Vulcan is going into shock, and then pushes both thoughts aside to consider what had lead to Riva’s death.

The thought that’s been bugging him, the thing that he can’t quite understand, finally comes out as he asks aloud, “How could rigor mortis set in, though? The professor just left about 10 minutes ago. He should’ve seen it.”

“Vas it him, then?” Chekov asks, eyes never straying from the body even as he speaks. He looks like he’s about to be sick, maybe like he even was sick, and Jim wonders if the two of them had been friends. He knew Irina got along well with Riva and if… _No,_ he tells himself firmly. _Not now._

“It doesn’t make sense,” Sulu replies, the first words he’s spoken aside from quickly murmured assurances. “Why would he put the body here if he’d killed him? He’d hide it, wouldn’t he? Try to get rid of it somewhere, not… show it off.”

“He was strangled to death,” Spock says abruptly, startling the others. “The marks on his neck show that it was done with force, barehanded, but I believe that there was a struggle and barbed wire had to be used instead.”

“You think he fought back telepathically,” Jim realized, but before Spock could give him an answer, McCoy came rushing around the corner with a concerned Christine Chapel hot on his heels.

“Damn it, Christine, I told you not to follow me!” the man shouted as he rushed over to join them, snapping on a pair of white gloves. He kneeled down beside the corpse without a thought to spare, checked for a pulse, and then checked for the signs of rigor mortis that Jim had reported to him.

“Should we even be doing any of this without an admiral around?” Sulu wondered aloud. Jim considered it before shrugging his shoulders, not all that sure himself. There weren’t really any rules about dealing with murders occurring at the academy itself. They usually occurred on missions.

Christine arrived soon after, not paying McCoy’s words any mind, and ducked down next to the body with a tricorder at hand. She ran it over the corpse, humming at the results of the scans, and held it over for McCoy to examine. She said, “There’s faint traces of drugs, but I can’t quite get much else. Tricorder’s not working right.”

“Riva was a telepath. Must’ve given out a real nasty shock, hope it damn well scrambled the mind of the asshole that did this,” McCoy said with a sneer. Christine nodded in understanding, tucking away the tricorder and offering him assistance as he continued to check out the body.

“What’s going on here?” a sharp voice asked and Jim looked up to see Admiral Pike approaching next with Uhura at his side, a concerned look on his face that was quickly replaced with a steel, hardened gaze. He made sure to step around the two medical officers and asked, “Anything you can tell me about what happened here?”

“I’m no professional, sir, but this looks like no accident,” Christine told him, stepping forward. “There were very faint traces of drugs, especially bad for telepaths as these drugs are known for shorting out their ability to use it.”

“I believe he was capable of using a telepathic attack, but not strong enough to alert any other telepaths in the building,” Spock said, glancing down at the names of the drugs she had pointed out. He added, “The markings on his neck indicate strangling, attempted with bare hands and then with barbed wire.”

“I don’t think it happened here,” Jim added. “Rigor mortis takes a while to set in and the professor left the room about 10 or 15 minutes before we discovered the body. I think the killer moved Riva deliberately, sir.”

McCoy let out a disgusted noise and everyone turned to him to see that he was holding the mouth open, peering inside. He said, “I noticed something strange about the mouth here and decided to take a look…. This was definitely deliberate.”

“Explain,” Pike said, sounding far too calm to actually be feeling it.

“Someone cut out his tongue,” he said. “Guess they must’ve wanted to keep it.”

Pike’s frown deepened. He pulled out his communicator, sending out a message to the other admirals, and then smoothly said, “Thank you for all your help, but this is a job for professionals, not cadets. While I understand that this was not a situation you are used to experiencing here at the academy, we will do our best to get it under control and keep everyone safe. You’re all excused from classes for the next few days but,” his gaze fixated on Kirk, “don’t try anything drastic. We’ll handle it.”

They all nodded and went their own ways, but as Jim left with McCoy and Spock, the doctor saw a look in his eyes that he knew would only bring them trouble.


End file.
